ChiTown Nights
by ArsinoetheXVII
Summary: AU Folken tries to keep up w an eccentric actress. Van, a moody artist, must find his inspiration. A piece about relationships with an Earthy beat. VH FOC MOC MD See the diaries of some of your favs.
1. Enter Snow White

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note: Okay, I'm not sure where this is going, so bear with me.  I kind of just wanted to write about a modern day Esca. romance.  I thought that it'd be kinda cool if maybe there were no really big plot.  I just feel like writing about everyday things that could happen to the characters.  I'm sure some of it will be a bit farfetched, but hey- that's fiction.  I guess it's mostly a piece about relationships.  I hope this turns out well. Wish me luck!

*- Marks journal entries.

                                                _Chi-Town Nights_

**Chapter 1: **

**Enter Snow White**

          *November 27, 2002    11:29 A.M. 

                    Folken Lacour De Fanel

                             There's something very quieting about the way she looks at me and smiles.  Our damaged world falls silent, the clock stops, the noise just clatters to a halt.  A feeling like the turn of a carousel captures her and I in this strange moment of peace.  It's amazing that a person like me is offered peace with someone like her.  Then again we are both figures of shadow.  Perhaps _peace_ is not the right word for what we have.  Never in my life will I ever truly obtain peace.  I've crushed too much with this metal hand of mine.  Ideals are too fleeting for humans to really comprehend.  And what is peace but an ideal?  Worlds shatter under the weight of people's ideals, their quest for the abstract musings of the mind.  Gods know, I could've brought more destruction upon my own world had I not seen the veils before my eyes.  Chasing dreams only to find that they are nightmares, evils that terrorize more than just the dreamer.  

I don't even belong to this world, and yet here I have found what some would call a home.  Oddly enough I fit here better then I did in Gaea.  But still, I have no place.  No matter where I find myself I'm never content, though sometimes in her presence I forget that.  Should I be branded a coward for seeking out this little happiness to escape the tragedy of my life?  Happiness is such a foreign word to me.  It applied when I was young, before I knew of cruel realities in places of cold steel.  And, perhaps it applies now, in this new world, with her.*

          "Hey, have you seen my other earring?" She stood in the doorway, her hands to her ear as she fastened a silver hoop to it.  He shut the laptop, pushing it farther back on the desk.  Turning in the chair to face her he shook his head.  She frowned with a sigh.  She looked like a young girl when she frowned that way.  Blowing a few stray hairs from her eyes she put her hands on her hips, "Kay, well I'm going to go check the bedroom again."  He smiled lightly as she turned and disappeared from sight.

          "You're late again," He commented, getting to his feet.  He walked into the living room, heading toward the kitchen.  Taking the two steps that led from the carpeted living room into the tiled kitchen he pulled a cell phone from his pocket.  Flipping it open he pushed one button and held it to his ear ("Can you hear me now?" j/k).  "Manny, bring the Explorer to the front… Thanks," He said.  Turning at the sound of her heels on the tile he slipped the phone back into his pocket, "Manny's waiting downstairs."

          "I was just gonna call a cab," She smiled as she picked up an apple from the bowl on the counter, "You going with?"  She bit into the apple, leaving her burgundy lipstick on the green around her bite.  The tangy scent hit his nose and for some reason he was reminded of the story of "Snow White".  What irony seeing as how she was a pale beauty with midnight hair and hazel eyes.  Bitter for bitter, a green apple for a cynical lady.  Her smile grew as her eyes narrowed with a mysterious sparkle he had grown to love.  She walked up to him and held the apple before her face as she tilted her head back to look at him, "Bite?"  He smirked and shook his head.  Laughing softly she pushed up on her toes, moving the apple away so that she could see his whole face.  Kissing her lips he could taste the tart sweetness of the apple's juice.

          "We should go," He said when they had broken away.  She put her hand on his cheek, moving her thumb against his lips to remove the lipstick.

          "Too bad," She sighed, her eyes taking on a devious glint, "A little morning tumble's good for the creative process."  Her tongue slid across her teeth as she winked in a seductive gesture.  The enchantress Circe could learn a thing or two from her.  Ah yes, "The Odyssey".  He shook his head, turning toward the door.  He'd been reading too much lately.  

          "Lani, wasn't your first class at 10:45?" He opened the door, waiting for her to catch his drift.  Luckily she had caught the tide with the first wind.  Snatching her bag from the couch she shrugged carelessly.

          As the Explorer came to a stop at the curb she literally hopped out, her bag slung over her shoulder.  Folken turned the stereo down.  He'd never liked Fa(c)et.  She insisted on keeping the volume just below the level of piercing pain.  The boys of Fa(c)et were her boys, so she didn't care if she could understand the screamed lyrics or not.

          Offering her a twenty between two fingers he said, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't pass out today."  Old argument.  His lips may have been smirking as though to tease her, but his eyes were serious.  Serious like a city brat alone in a dark alley at night.  She cocked her head to the side smiling curiously, her hands resting on the windowsill.  

          "I don't know," She said playfully as she plucked the twenty from his hand, "Having an I.V. shoved in my arm is kinda fun."  As she backed away she placed two fingers to her lips and brought them away in a peace sign.  Stuffing the money in her ankle "granny" boots, she turned and headed toward the building.  His eyes narrowed in annoyance at the thought that he wasn't sure if she had been kidding.  

As he drove away he found himself wondering as he had a thousand times before what made her tick.  The city around him pulsed with its usual traffic.  But when you had been merging with the mass of impatient cars and drivers for so long, you tended to tune it out.  It was like blocking out the raging rock music she listened to constantly.  In time, it was in your blood, you had built up an immunity to it.  He switched the stereo to radio, pausing the worn out CD.  He could handle the Spanish rhythms of Mana better than he could Lani's favorite garage band.  

The radio was programmed with all of her preferences despite the fact that the Ford was his.  But it was one of the things that worked with them.  He couldn't claim to know too much about music, so she introduced him to her "classics".  Most of it he didn't mind, probably because it expressed her more than any of her sometimes bizarre words and actions.  Then there were the tapes and CDs that started arguments, ending in him tossing the "troublemaker" out the window.  The streets of Chi-Town were often the victims of the hurled music in question.   Even the sidewalk below his apartment building was no longer safe for pedestrians fearful of falling discs.  

Lucky for him he was paying a small fortune for his apartment so the landlord had no motivation to evict him.  Even when one of Lani's parties had become one prostitute short of a raid, the landlord found it difficult to even approach Folken about perhaps turning the music down a tad.  He had no reservations about engaging Lani in a bitter row, however.  It was a foolish move on his part, for it always ended in tears, and not one of those salty drops was Lani's.  In fact it usually ended with blood as well, and I don't have to tell you that the man bruised easily also.  After so many confrontations resulting in a right hook to the face, or a quick jab in the stomach, it was a wonder Mr. Carlsen even bothered.  Folken had only to count the days until another of the squabbles broke out in the hallway.  About two, he figured.  

Author: So, what have we learned? Not a bloody thing! Except that we have a new character joining the crew: Lani (short for Lanikai, a Hawaiian name meaning 'heavenly sea').  Not a huge help, but hey, we've established some contact.  We know Folken journals in a laptop.  Big wow.  I think that's going to be my thing for this story.  Journal entries are the thing! Hell yeah!  I think the whole cast will be journaling as we progress.  Writing of progress, I've decided to make my chapters rather small.  By the way, not to insult anyone's intelligence, but Chi-Town is what we people of Illinois call Chicago.  Another piece of info, again no offense, it's pronounced "Shy-Town".  Well, I hope this isn't a complete failure.  Please let me know!

Next Chapter: The dragon makes an appearance, and everyone's favorite fortuneteller hops into the mix.  


	2. Painter's Vision

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                                      _Chi-Town Nights_

                                     **Chapter 2:**

**Painter's Vision**__

The brush clattered against the wall, the paint splashing on the white.  The red blot left dripped slowly, leaving a long trail down to the clear plastic tarp on the floor.  The young man paced in agitation wiping the back of his hand on his cheek, smearing red there as well.  It just wasn't working.  For weeks he'd been haunted by the same images, keeping him from sleep.  And now the dark was slowly dispersing as the dawn's light faded the black to a navy blue.  Not that it mattered to the young artist what time it was, but still it irritated him that he still could not display his vision on canvas.  So he paced in his studio, the canvas propped on the easel blank as when he had placed it there three or four weeks earlier.  

His workroom was stark white, from the floor to the ceiling, with the exception of the few places where a brush had collided and left sprinklings of paint.  It was a large room, smelling of clean drywall and art supplies.  But it was empty that morning, but for the painter, the easel and canvas, a paint palette, and some brushes.

"Van?" The voice was soft and delicate like it's owner who stood in the doorway.  Even in the early hours her green eyes shimmered with life.  Vitality was her gift; it kept her looking younger than her eighteen years and beautiful beyond reason.  The way she looked leaning against the doorframe, her sandy hair falling over her shoulders was so familiar.  How many mornings had she come to stand in the doorway looking like a modern Aurora?  She looked so inviting, the oversized white poet's shirt slipping off one shoulder to bare some of the supple skin.  It fell to mid-thigh showing of the long runner's legs.  Even the straight, baby-soft hair that fell over her shoulders had an enticing quality.  Oh how he wished he could fall into those arms, to sleep like he had not in so many months.  But there would be no rest for him, not this day.  He had stopped at the sound of her voice, his whole manner changing.  His fatigue was too obvious, he could tell by the look on her face.  He sighed, dropping his weary eyes to the floor.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" His voice though gentle, was weighted by his lack of slumber.  She shook her head as she glided toward him, her bare feet barely making a sound on the plastic covering the carpet.  Cupping one hand beneath his chin she raised his head to stare into his eyes.  

"You can't keep doing this," She pleaded lightly.  He closed his eyes wrapping his arms around her, drawing her warm body to his.  Resting his chin on top of her head he resigned himself to stroking her silky locks.  She let her eyes fall shut as she hugged his chest wishing that this gesture alone could wipe out all trace of his insomnia.  It was a wish that even she knew was futile.  "Please, just come in and lay down for awhile," She looked up at him.

"I can't," He sighed, holding a handful of her hair as he stared at it forlornly, "I just keep thinking of everything. It's all meaningless, but it's still in my head."  Her hands were warm on the side of her face and again he longed to sleep in his bed next to her.

"Is it- because you miss Merle?" She asked hesitantly, avoiding his eyes as he slowly focused on her face.  Her hands slid from his face as silence crept in.  

"Sure I miss her," He shrugged, "But I don't think that's why I can't sleep."  The woman nodded.  Van had accepted his best friend's absence as he accepted all things, with easy calm.  Besides, he knew that she was happy living in the suburbs west of the city.  She was only a phone call away.  A long distance phone call, but a phone call none-the-less.  No, it was not that he was distraught about her nonattendance, though honestly things were a little empty without her.  

"This all used to work," He finally said, his eyes emotionlessly scanning the room, "I used to be able to come in here and work it all out. I could work for hours on one piece- or twenty different ones… I still see the pictures in my mind- but I can't- bring them out."  He finished with a heavy sigh.

"Don't worry, this is just one of those tough periods that artists go through," She graced him with one of her encouraging smiles, "I get writer's block all the time!"  Resting her hands on his chest she continued, "Be happy. Your show is in a week, and you have enough pieces. You should relax."  His eyes slowly came to rest on her face.  After three years she still reflected the young girl whose heart had guided the dragon.  Her belief in him had carried him through the Gaean War to her own world where he had fallen for her all over again.  One look assured him that her love would carry him through for many years to come.  His arms went around her waist as he smiled.

"Speaking of writer's block, don't you have a paper to write?" He teased quietly.  Her laughter echoed in the bare room.  

"Well if you had been paying attention to me when we were walking here, you would know that I wrote that paper a week ago, and turned it in today." She scoffed with a smile as she picked at a paint stain on his white tank top.

"Oh. Sorry," He shook his head with a laugh, "If it makes you feel better I don't think I heard a word my Physics professor said either."  

"No," She frowned, "It doesn't… You need sleep, Van."  She was looking at him in that worried way again.  He hated that look on her face.

"I know," He grimaced, his hold on her loosening.

The decisive look in her eyes warned him of her words before she spoke, "You have to be ready for the show, it's part of your grade. And finals are next month. I think you should go see a doctor."

"Hitomi-" He began, ready to argue his point.

She cut him off, "No, I'm serious, Van."  She pushed away the incessant black bangs in front of his eyes and kissed his cheek.  "Please, just for tonight agree with me. I'll call before I head to my first class," She pressed, looking into his eyes hopefully.  When he only nodded she smiled and kissed his cheek again.  He drew her closer, lowering his head to capture her lips in a tender kiss.

The glow of the black light on the fish tank lit her way as she walked into his room and dropped onto his bed.  As the bed rippled like a wave beneath her she settled her head on her arms with a contented sigh.  The water stilled slowly and she closed her eyes.  For several minutes she lay there, listening to the hum of the fish tank and the music that penetrated through the wall from Van's studio.  Finally, knowing she could not sleep at the moment, she opened her eyes looking around the room sluggishly.  She rose from her stomach to her knees and reached across the desk to pick up a small book.  She reached once more for a pen, then sprawled out on her stomach again.  Flipping past pages full of written words she hummed a bit of the chorus to "Wish You Were Here" playing in the other room.  A blank page in front of her she set out.

*November 28, 2002

          This will be the 75th morning that Van has paced in that room, battling insomnia and his evil Muses that never let him rest.  I haven't been here for all of those mornings, but still I know that it's been almost three months since his last decent night's sleep.  I still have to check back at home once and awhile.  My parents would freak if I spent all my nights here in his apartment.  I hate to admit it, but I almost prefer to go home lately.  It's just so hard to see Van so restless.  I should be used to it, but still, I feel a little hurt when he slips out of bed to sit alone in his art room.  He thinks that I'm sleeping, but I always feel it when he draws away from me.    

I guess it's a blessing and a curse for him.  Sometimes his inspiration takes him with fierce hands, bidding him to paint, sketch, or sculpt an amazing piece of brilliance.  It's amazing what he can do when that urge takes over him.  Hours pass where he's in a trance, devoted to his art.  I guess there are times when I feel a little taken for granted, because when he's creating with such fervor, I don't exist.  Even at times when I'm sitting in front of him, holding as still as I can, I wonder if it's me he really sees.  I must admit that being his subject is extremely flattering.  When he paints me, I truly feel as beautiful as he claims I am.  When I see my face staring out at me from the canvas I can't believe it's me.  It's strange to look at a woman's picture and think she's goddess only to find out it's you.  I'm the last person any of my friends would call vain, but seeing myself through his eyes makes me proud.  But now I just wish he would paint anything.  After creating he sleeps like a dead man.  Sometimes he even misses his morning classes.  I'd give anything for him to miss classes because he overslept.  It's really beginning to wear on him, the lack of sleep.  It's silly, but I wish I knew the perfect lullaby to sing to him.  Like a spell to cast over him.  Perhaps Lani will know one.  Or maybe she'll have an herbal remedy for me to try.  I'll see her today in my English class.  Hopefully I'll get to talk to her before she starts an argument with Mr. Schuster and gets kicked out…  Well, goodnight.  I mean good morning, of course.*

Author's Note: So, what do you think of Van as "the moody artist"? Kinda stellar, huh? Do me a favor and please let me know.    


	3. Crazy Girls

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                                                _Chi-Town Nights___

**   Chapter 3:**

**                                          Crazy Girls**

= - Marks poetry

           Her boots clicked out a catchy rhythm on the cement, her hips keeping the beat as she strode down the busy sidewalk.  A young girl slightly shorter hurried along at her side, a little unnerved by the bustle of the city.  But the two had done this dance before, hopping around the newspaper stands, hydrants, and trees lining the boulevard.  Cold air brushed their cheeks, their breath crystallizing before their faces.  Attention was shot their way as they weaved with a familiar ease through the crowd.  Perhaps it was the short plaid skirt the taller girl wore, sleek and tight against her shapely thighs.  Along with the matching bodice hidden only slightly by the black jean jacket, she was the perfect example of the college students littering the city with their defiance and spirit.  Her companion was just as pretty, though in a purer way with her green skirt and white sweater, secured comfortably in a white jacket.  They both stood out in their own way, one in the mysterious depths of her eyes and the other in the delicate face framed by angelic light brown hair.  Stepping down onto the street, the girls hailed a taxi and disappeared into the yellow transport.  The noise was muffled within the quiet interior of the cab.  Lucky for them it was clean and sported a yellow maple leaf-shaped air freshener on the mirror.

          "Barnes and Noble," Lani smiled at the driver, "Please and thank you."  She sat back with a contented sigh pulling the messenger bag over her head.

          After several moments of silence Lani studied her friend with an intent stare, "You want my opinion?"  Hitomi started, looking from the window to the woman next to her.  The force behind her gaze unsettled the girl for a moment and she dropped her eyes to the beige floor.  Lani had that odd affect on everyone she met.  It was something in the way she kept her expression so still, and her eyes veiled yet curious.

          "Mm, yes," Hitomi finally nodded, looking at the woman with quiet desperation.  Her friend cocked her head to the side slightly, eyeing her pensively, like a kitten unsure of its prey.  Kitty cat indeed.

          "Brandy and herbal tea," She said, digging in the bag at her side.  Pulling a packet of Egyptian Licorice tea from her satchel she smiled with a shrug.  As she handed it to Hitomi she sighed, "This works, or you can use Chamomile, or Peppermint, the key is the brandy."

          "Oh," The girl blinked looking at the small brown packet, "Thank you."

          "Get the Irish stuff, it's stronger," Lani insisted, then shook her head, "Oh you know the liquor store near Celli's? Wait- your not old enough- oh well, no worries, I'll get it," She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.  It occurred to Hitomi that it was rather perfect that she had asked Lani, seeing as how alcohol was in the mix.  She shook her head, biting her lip as she felt a flood of guilt tap her with an accusing finger.  Sure Lani was a bit wild, but it didn't mean she knew the history of all liquor ever produced.  Well at least not _all_ of it. 

          "But you're not old enough either," Hitomi protested stuffing the tea into her purse.

          Lani smirked, "Oh shut up, you know I practically run AA."

          "Yeah, but only mooch off the wealthy members," She returned with a teasing smile.  They both laughed, and lit with their enthusiasm even the driver smiled. 

          The twenty from the day before had gone to the driver, and when she had said, "Keep the change," he smiled and thanked her.  Walking away from the cab she had laughed picturing the look on Folken's face had he seen her tipping so generously after the ten dollar and sixty six cent ride.  Wicked she thought of herself as she linked arms with her peer and headed toward the bookstore.  

          After an hour of silent reading in the fiction and religion/philosophy aisles the pair met in the café.

          "I don't know, Yaya," Hitomi swept a lock of her hair behind her ear, "Sometimes I think it'd be easier if he were still in Fanelia."  She sighed looking down at the cup between her hands.  The smell of coffee was somehow soothing and she looked up to watch the clerk pour a bag of beans into the grinder.  Chewing on a coffee stir Lani smiled faintly at the girl.

          "Yaya thinks you're kidding yourself," She said softly, one eye hidden by the curtain of her black hair.  Hitomi turned her attention to the woman across the table, waiting patiently for her to explain.  "It's foolish to think that he would be happy without you. What would come from days wishing you were with someone too far away? Not a damn thing. It's just a reminder that we're lonely. Sometimes it's nicer to trick yourself into believing that's not true," Slowly her head rose slightly, to look Hitomi in the face.  She smiled, "You're such a sap."

          She chuckled lightly, tearing the brown paper ring from around her cappuccino, and retorted, "So? You don't realize it but you are too," Her eyes sparkled as she challenged the woman with an impudent smile.  Lani rolled her eyes with a forced laugh shaking her head.  "It's true," Hitomi was adamant, "You're just as sappy as I am. You're a romantic at heart."

          "Whatever!" Lani cried, laughing, "I'm just in it for the sex!"  A hush fell.  She had spoken during one of those abnormal moments when the room became dead silent.  Her words seemed to echo in the corners of the bookstore.  As usual she coolly laughed it off.  With her outspoken ease she smiled, raising her voice slightly, "Yes that's right everyone! I'm in it for the sex."  She noticed the rose blush coloring her friend's cheeks and raised her brows innocently.  Shaking back her hair she got to her feet as she pulled her bag over her head.  

Smiling widely she looked around spreading her hands, "Come on people, if the sex is good, who cares about anything else?"  Scandalized an older couple shook their heads.  But not everyone could ignore the woman's cheery observation.  The chuckles were enough for Lani, who shrugged.

          From a table near theirs a young man offered quietly, "Hell, yeah."  Hitomi looked over at him wide-eyed, and then looked away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.  But embarrassment meant little to Lani, and she continued her tirade.

          "Hell yeah!" She shouted grabbing her coat as she slowly sauntered towards the door.  Her companion scrambled after her, her eyes on her feet as she fumbled with her purse and the plastic bag she held.  It seemed that nothing could wipe away the completely mortified look from her face.

          As they pushed through the double doors Hitomi muttered with a nervous laugh, "You see? That's why you're not allowed in half the bookstores in this city."

          Still glorifying in the moment the woman just laughed, "Don't trip! They know me there! The manager just shook her head!"  She draped an arm around Hitomi's tense shoulders, resting her head against the girl's, "You love it!"  Hitomi looked irritated for little more than a moment before she broke into a smile.

          Rolling her eyes she leaned into her friend, "Only with you, Yaya."  The chill of winter was nothing compared to the warm laughter that bubbled around the two.  They swaggered on the sidewalk like drunks, swapping insults and reveling in the positive energy surging from one another.  It was easy to forget the inquiring stares they received when the lights of the city lit their way down the streets.  Evening hung over Chi-Town, ever darkening as the sun hid behind the skyscrapers and office buildings.  The buzz and snap of electricity mingled with the sounds of traffic.  It was indeed the beginning of another Chi-Town night.

          = Happy little town. But I didn't eat today. Who needs food? It'll swallow you whole. I don't care. My routine is this for now. I'm not going to change it. Walking down the street is easy on an empty stomach. Because food weighs it down otherwise. Yes, and I'm too busy to be weighed down. 

I like my life this way. 

And sometimes when I find myself hating what it's become I can look away. I like to look away. I look away into the sky and see the clouds. I look away and see the people. I look away into his eyes. 

Such beautiful eyes. I could get lost. That sepia gaze… What a treasure for my world. 

And what a world it is, where I can look away and laugh. I laughed today. 

So what if I'm indecent? I love the shame. 

So what if I'm conceited… Everyone else is. 

But I hate it. I want to scrub the vanity from myself because it's so ugly. How can this little bitch be vain? Not when the streets were once all she had. And all I have should be all I want. But there's so much more. I want to taste it all, hold it in my hands; put it in my pocket. 

Happy little town. But I didn't eat today. =   _Lani_

"Did you eat today?" He asked pouring a cup of coffee.

"Yep," She replied dropping the pen and crumpling up the piece of paper.  She tossed it into the wicker basket next to the refrigerator.

"Why don't I believe you?" He glared at her over the rim of the cup.

She smiled, resting her head in her hand, "I don't know. You have trust issues." Her hazel eyes looked venomous as they sparked gray and lapsed into a light brown.  She exuded a wicked energy that curled with her lips.  An image of her decked out in the attire of a Turkish belly dancer flashed into his mind.  He could almost see the veil covering half her face, her eyes sensuously lined with dark kohl and green shadow.  He frowned darkly, closing his eyes to banish the picture she sent.  It was one of her many tricks meant to distract him.

"Not today," He opened his eyes to stare at her seriously, but she had disappeared from the stool.  His eyes darted to the sunken living room as he set the mug down.  She sat on the white sofa, her legs tucked to the side as she kept her eyes intently on the book in her hands.  He knew this game and he was not amused.  She sat so pretty pretending to have no knowledge of him in the room, but…  He crossed the room with slow deliberate movements.  Standing in front of her, he placed his hand beneath her chin.  Lifting her head to see her eyes he spoke calmly with his usual detached air, "I'm not playing, Lani."

She gave him a patient smile, and purred softly, "Don't you have a paper to write?"  Pure defiance shone in her feline-esque eyes.  The clever girl knew she was pressing his nerves.  She could feel the annoyance in his grip as he pulled his hand away hastily.  

His cats would never defy him like this!  Why he thought of them at that moment he wasn't sure, but the pain was clear for a second.  It vanished beneath his cold mask, but she had always caught onto his emotions.  His hands curled into fists at his sides.  The chill snaked into her like a poisonous vine and she could feel the sudden emptiness.  He had confused her with them again, with his angel cats, his fallen worshipers.  And no she didn't mind the thought of them; she actually found them courageous.  But there was something else in his eyes.  It was that one thing he couldn't get past.  Was she his girlfriend or his servant?  

She got to her feet in front of him.  Like a child standing in front of her father she faced him.  

"I'm not your servant, Folken," Her words were bitter and thick with wounded pride.  What a night to broach the subject again.  He was still learning to accept her for what she was to him.  The former arguments rung in his ears and he winced dropping his gaze to the couch.  He couldn't bear to look into those eyes.  Not when they reminded him so much of them.  Not when there was that familiar distress within them.  

He sighed bringing his hand up to his temple, "The article is due in the _Science Journal_ less than a week from now."  She pursed her lips and nodded silently.

"Kay," Her voice was no more than a whisper.  Angrily she blinked away the tears and took a deep breath.  She swallowed hard turning her head to the side.  "Then call me when you've got time to **_play_**," Her voice was strained and mocking.  She brushed past him hurriedly heading toward his room.  He closed his eyes, feeling the knot squeezing tighter.  He should stop her.  He should apologize.  Folken stood unmoving, unable to find the courage.  

Lani swept into his room, swiping her bag from the bed and rushing into the bathroom.  Her stomach was killing her.  The stabbing pain nagged at her as she grabbed her make-up and shoved it into her bag.  Her toothbrush was next.  She scanned the area for any other personal items and spotted a razor, a few earrings, and small pile of clothes.  When she had cleared the bathroom she practically ran into the bedroom, clutching a box to her chest.  She emerged from the room, her bag over her shoulder, a pair of shoes in one hand and the box in her other.  Her porcelain cheeks were flushed by that time, her thick eye lashes wet with salty tears.  She stopped in the kitchen at the top of the steps, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths.  But he was a statue.  Shaking her head fiercely she bit her lip with a growl, suppressing the livid tears.

"Hire some help!" She cried, chucking a box of tampons at him.  Turning on her heel she stormed out, her feet bare, and her hair flying behind her like a black cape.  The box hit his shoulder, tossing tampons left and right on the couch and floor.  Have you ever noticed the sound of a door slamming?  The echo that follows is haunting.  That sound makes everything so final.  But he knew it wasn't final.  There was a simple answer for her frazzled emotional state.  And no, all you sexists out there can put "that" idea out of your mind.  The simple answer was that she had not eaten.  She had not eaten in a long time; that always tended to make her moody.  But infinitely more had built up that fire.  Damn lighter fluid.  Was life never without its stacks of wood waiting for sparks?  Yeah, whatever that means.

Author's Note: Was that bitchin' or what? Nothing like throwing a box of tampons at your boyfriend to tell him he sucks! LOL! I don't know what that craziness was! But now you have an idea of how eccentric Lani is. Please review! Oh, by the way, when Lani said "Hire some help," she meant like maids, not like psychiatric help. I just thought I'd clear that up for ya. And Yaya is Lani's nickname. Aloha!


	4. Of Cats and Sunglasses

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                                                _Chi-Town Nights_

**                                            Chapter 4:**

**                                Of Cats and Sunglasses**

          *November 29, 2002    3:43 A.M. 

                    Folken Lacour De Fanel

                             The older ones believe to forget one's past is to lose all sight of the future.  Do those elders realize what it is like to live with a past that is reminiscent of an open wound?  How wondrous it would be to let go of these scars!  And yet how very unwise it would be to let them fade into nothingness.  We learn from the damage we cause.  At least we are meant to.  Sometimes I'm not sure I've learned the right lessons.  If only I had come to an understanding of certain relationships.  I've had so few relationships.  I remember the times when there was only coldness to embrace.  Those memories could very well destroy me with their remoteness… But before then, before I locked myself away from the world there were moments of good.  Moments where I felt love within my heart for my blood kin.  Once I laughed with him, once I walked with him, his hand in mine.  It was all so long ago.  Another time, another place.

          And now it's not the tender young face of my brother that haunts me, but the trusting faces of dead phantoms.  Oh how they believed in me, how easily they accepted my words.  And I cared for them because they were as lost as I, as unfortunate as I.  Taking them in was like a small piece of redemption for my failure.  All I knew was how to command their obedience through kindness.  Sometimes I wonder if I truly used them.  Selfish, yes of course.  Soldiers for Zaibach, children of fate.  Damn that word: fate.  How cursed it all is.  Luck, fate, destiny, what are these but more of the damned ideals we corrupt?  They fell to those ideals.  They fell to **_my_** ideals.  Their faith was in me, not in righteousness of the work, and it was that faith that led to their demise.  Like blind servants they fought for me, nothing and no one else, but me.  

          I'm so sorry.  Forgive me, Zongi.  Forgive me, Naria, Eriya.  I have no right to ask for that forgiveness…  Somehow I know that I have it though.  Somehow I know they've forgiven me.  Such selfless love, what incredible devotion.  Are humans capable of possessing such emotions?  I guess my question is truly this: Am I capable of possessing such emotions?

But she doesn't want that from me.  Gods we are too alike.  Neither of us feels we are worthy of honor such as that.  But she is.  She really is.*    

          Waiting as the phone rang he lightly sketched a friendly looking dragon on the pad of paper on his desk.  Next to the dragon a young girl with cat ears and a tail took shape.  He smirked at the picture with a shake of his head.

          Startling him a feminine voice spoke on the line, "Hello?"

          Impatiently scratching out his drawings he answered anxiously, "Um, Merle- I mean is Merle there?"

          "Van? Oh- I'm so glad you called- I thought you might be calling sometime soon! How are you?" He could hear the smile in the woman's voice.  It was not the smile he was hoping for.

          "Oh, hey Millerna- ugh- fine. Is- Merle there?" He scratched his head, trying not to sound intolerant.

          "Yeah, sure, hold on a moment," Millerna replied.  There was silence on the line and he dropped his eyes to the paper again, his hand scribbling out a tree.  The tree took on life as he waited, the limbs stretching wide as the leaves sprouted.  There was a sudden clatter, and the sound of women arguing.  There was a loud thud in Van's ear and he winced, bringing the phone away.  He grimaced placing the phone back against his ear.

          "Van?" Came the anxious voice of the girl from his drawing.  What a pleasant sound.  He reveled in the sound of his name, smiling to himself.

"Lord Van? Are you there?" The girl pressed eagerly, curling the phone cord around her finger.

          "Yeah, it's me Merle," He shook his head at the scrambling noise, "Quit playing with the cord, Merle, you're making the phone fuzzy."

          "Oh," She abruptly released her toy, "I'm sorry, Lord Van."

          Nostalgia wrapped around him like a blanket he chuckled, "How are you, Ms. Kitty?"

          She couldn't help the tears that rose in her eyes as she replied, "I'm really good, Van. How are you?"  The maturity in her voice was still new to him.  True she'd been growing quite fast in the last three years, but he couldn't see her as anything but a little girl.  The picture in his mind was untainted by modern clothing and make-up.  He'd gotten used to the human face, devoid of the whiskers and ears.  Nothing was left of the cat, but the eyes keen and savvy with feline wisdom.  The pink hair dye in the blond hair was one of the only things reminiscent of the girl she used to be.

          "I'm doing okay," Van finally shrugged, "Nothing new has popped up… What about you? How's school?"  Wiping the tears from her eyes she laughed out of pure happiness.

          Sniffing she answered with a wide smile, "Well, school's well. I've kept up on all my work. I was sick a couple days last week, but I turned everything in on time. It was just a cold…"  She paused biting on the tip of one of her blue painted nails.  "How's Hitomi? Is she there? Can I talk to her?" She asked, her excitement a reminder of her tendency to be the child she once was.

          He laughed shaking his head as though she were there to see him, "No, she's in class. She had a class at ten this morning… Actually I have a class in a few minutes, I just thought I'd call- ya know?"  He held in a sigh, regretting that he could not delay much longer.  After all, it was so nice to hear her voice.  Merle looked down, her hand clasping around the phone cord again.  Who needs a security blanket when you have a phone cord?  The cool plastic was comforting somehow.  Her eyebrows drew together in an expression of sadness.

          "I should let you go then, huh?" She sighed, "You have to catch up on a lot of work I bet. You haven't slept… I know- I felt it…"  She knew him so well.  The distance had never threatened their connection.  "I'm really glad you called, Lord Van," Merle cheered slightly.

          "Yeah… I- um- it's been nice talking to you, Merle," He rubbed the back of his neck forcing a smile, "I've- gotta get going."

          She nodded, "Alright."

          "Good-bye, Merle," He said.

          "Good-bye, Lord Van… Love you." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

          "Love you, too. I'll call again soon, okay, Merle?" He assured her.

          The tears sprang to her eyes again and she smiled, "Okay."  The salt water fell to her cheeks as she closed her eyes listening to the dial tone.

          The sun wasn't out, but she wore sunglasses.  She was indoors, but still she wore a pair of blue box frame sunglasses low on her nose as she skimmed over a book.  No one said anything, though she was seated 'Indian Style' on the round table top completely ignoring the fact that there were two perfectly good chairs at the table.  She was completely flaunting the fact that she made little sense.  Cut off jean shorts and black pantyhose in the winter?  The short gray Columbia College sweatshirt she wore was about the only thing that seemed to reflect any good judgment.  But good judgment had never been her strong suit.  Her headphones resting around her collar blasted Shakira's original style of rock into her ears.  The "Donde estan los ladrones?" CD case sat by her side.  A copy of "The October Horse" rested in her heavily ringed hands.  She was a different kind of punk after all.

          "You make an interesting picture, do you mind if I sketch you?" He sat down, his sketch pad in hand, a pencil poised to draw.

          "As long as I come out like Marilyn Monroe." She replied in a distracted tone, flipping the page.  

          "I'll do my best." He replied already focused completely on the task at hand.  They sat in silence for several minutes, him sketching away furiously, and her pouring through the book at a rather quick rate.  When Hitomi sat down on the other side of the table, neither even looked her way though they were both aware of her presence.  She knew it was no use speaking to either so she too opened a book and began to read.  College students are so predictable.

          "Could you move to the right a little?" Van asked glancing up for a moment, then dropping his gaze to his work.

          "Not unless you want a portrait of me falling on my ass." She returned tonelessly, still fully lost in the read.  

          "Works for me." He said shading the picture carefully.  Several more minutes of intense concentration and he had finished.  Hitomi looked up to see his trademark frown as he eyed the drawing.  Like all artists he was incredibly critical of his work.  What a crock, that sentence is so overused.  Ah well, we can't be perfectly original all the time.  Looking disenchanted Van sighed and handed the notebook to Hitomi.  She took it eagerly and studied it with a smile.  It was plucked from her grasp after a second and she looked up to see Lani look it over with an expressionless face.

          Looking over the rim of her glasses at him she teased, "This is crap. I don't look anything like Marilyn."

          "What can I say? The un-blondeness of your hair threw me off." He responded with a shrug.  She smirked smacking the pad against his chest as she slid from the table to her feet.

          "Next time try harder, Picasso." She scoffed pushing her glasses back to rest on top her head.

          "Whatever you say, Devil's Spit." He smiled at her.

          "It's Heavenly Sea to you, Dragon Breath." She slapped him in the back of the head as she passed.  At the counter she ordered an Italian Soda tapping out a beat with her hands.

          "If I didn't know you two better, I'd say you hated one another." Hitomi shook her head with a smile, placing her book on the table.

          "Who needs hate when you'd love to see someone fall off the Sears Tower?" Van joked rubbing the back of his head.

          "Exactly, hurting people is only a way of proving your affection." Lani appeared to cuff him again.  She smiled sweetly as she dragged a chair from another table and sat down.  She ignored the glare Van shot at her as he rubbed at his head again.  Pushing the drink in her hand toward Hitomi she said, "Caramel."

          After taking a sip Hitomi commented, "It's a wonder you two aren't related. At least not yet." Smiling slyly she handed the cup back to her friend.

          "Hopefully we never will be." Lani replied instantly, the edge to her voice obvious.  Hitomi frowned, and Van rolled his eyes.  He knew his brother had done something stupid.  Sure he knew that Lani had other reasons to disapprove of marriage, but those things had little to do with her reaction.  His thoughts were confirmed as he watched the woman quickly write the words "jackass" and "egomaniac" on a napkin.  Yep, his brother had definitely done something worthy of those titles.

          "Please tell me this is not about Fa(c)et again." Hitomi sighed fixing Lani with a sympathetic stare.

          "Nope, it's about not serving the lord and master," She said quickly getting to her feet, "Got a thing, see ya later, I'm out."  Gathering her book and messenger bag she flashed the couple a smile and headed toward the door.  When the bell over the door had sounded her exit Hitomi picked up the Italian Soda and quietly gnawed on the end of the straw.  Simultaneously the two sighed and exchanged a knowing glance.


	5. Throw It Down

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Chi-Town Nights 

     **Chapter 5:**

**Throw It Down**

          It was like only a few years ago when she couldn't sleep because her stomach was growling like a Doberman.  The difference was that then she would've done quite a lot to quell her hunger, unlike now when she refused the food in the fridge.  It was definitely different then lying awake in a doorway or a shelter.  She had a bed of her own.  She didn't have to share it with a stranger who curled up with her, only desperate for the warmth of another soul just as flea-bitten and poor as them.  It wasn't like those nights.  The pain wasn't the same.  

_Men bite worse than fleas_.  She thought, burying her face in the pillow.  Sighing she turned her head to lay her cheek against the sheeted surface instead.  She reached to her bed stand and picked up her cell phone.  The phone lit with a neon light as she pushed a button, raising her head slightly to look at the time.  2:18.  Her head fell back onto the pillow as she rolled her eyes.  Damn time.  It sucked too.  Wait, she'd thought: _men bite_- not suck.  Oh well.  Why did it even matter?  

She closed her eyes whispering to herself, "Please don't call! Please don't call! I want to be angry at you."  A sigh escaped her again as she put the phone back on her dresser.  For several minutes she lay there, listening to the silence with her eyes open.  After she had counted seven minutes, the cell rang.  She held her breath, allowing it to ring twice before she slowly moved her hand towards the phone.

"Don't be him. Don't be him." She murmured watching the cell phone light up once more.  She stared at the name on the I.D.  Folken.  It rang twice more before she pushed 'Talk', waited a moment and pushed it again, hanging up.  Pursing her lips she set it down on the pillow near her head.  Two minutes passed as she lay there staring at the little green Nextel.  That familiar ring broke the quiet.  It was him.  She recognized his ring.  It rang two times. Three.  Four.  Five.  

"What?" She answered softly, laying as still as before, the phone to her ear.  Not a word was spoken for a few seconds.  She waited licking her lips.

Finally he replied, "I hired a cleaning service, a maid."  She sniffed, running a hand over her cheek in a tired gesture.

"Yeah? Why are you telling me?" She said in bored tone, as she stifled a yawn.  The customary quiet ensued.  Sluggishly she sat up, propping up against one elbow.

"Come over. I want you here tonight." He said gently.

She narrowed her eyes and sat up fully crying, "It's two thirty in the goddamn morning, Folken!"  He sighed.  Were all of their arguments so predictable?

"Then I want you here this morning." He responded patiently.

"No, you know what? No. I have class in the morning- **_this_** morning, I don't have time for this!" She said tersely.  Taking the phone from her ear she looked down at it as she hung up.  She let out a frustrated snarl, slamming the phone onto the bed stand.  She threw herself down against the bed completely missing the pillow.  Sitting back up she picked up the pillow only to hurl it off the bed.  Gasping she felt her cheeks, annoyed with the fact that they were burning.

"Damn it!" She hissed swinging her legs off the bed.  She stood up snatching a bag from her closet muttering darkly, "I should've told him to fuck off. Damn it. I always think of something good to say after I hang up."

He could hear the scuffle in the hallway thirty-eight minutes later, a telltale sign that she had indeed come.  Opening the door her voice rose clearly to his ears.

"Bite my ass, old man! I didn't steal **_shit_** from your ass!" She yelled over her shoulder at the dark haired man threatening her with a butcher knife.  Folken had been nearly right.  About two days.

"Come 'ere ya little whore! Come say that to my face!" He sneered, indicating himself with a beckoning of his hands.  Folken sighed watching from the doorway.  He leaned back against the frame, folding his arms over his bare chest.  Mr. Carlsen never had the nerve to say things like that unless he had taken personal offense.  The man hated when she called him old.  After all, he was only twenty-six.  

Whirling around her hair crashing against her cheek she screamed, "Fuck you! Call me a whore again, we'll see how brave you are then ya old prick!"  Even in that white satin gown with no shoes to threaten any height she looked dangerous.  J.R. looked a little startled, but he held his ground at the end of the hall.

"That's it you bitch, I'm callin' the cops! We'll see, then!" He nodded fiercely, his broad chest rising and falling in a swift rhythm. Backing away slowly he threw a gang sign at her.  Spotting Folken he raised his hand in greeting, with a smile, "Oh hey, Mr. F. what's up?"  He was suddenly looking a bit more nervous.  Folken only smirked giving a quick nod.

"Yeah, Deuce, my ass." She lifted a skeptical eyebrow, flipping him the bird.  Turning away she snorted with disgust heading toward "Mr. F.'s" apartment.

Chuckling uneasily J.R. continued to back down the hall, "Hey, don't worry man, I wasn't gonna call the five-o, ya know, I just said it cause-"

"You're a pussy and know I'll beat your ass." Lani called over her shoulder smugly.

"Shut up, bitch, you just wait, we'll settle up one day. On the street, you can bet your ass!" Mr. Carlsen spat waving the knife as he turned.  He turned half way around to sneak a couple glances at her every once and awhile, but said nothing more, storming down the corridor like he had just won the battle.

Lani shook her head, muttering to herself irritably, "Whatever. You're punk ass will get whooped."  Stopping three steps from Folken she pursed her lips, her eyes losing the wild flare.  She was holding a pair of red boots to her chest with one arm; in the opposite hand she clutched the handles of a bag woven of straw.  The Hula girl on the sides of the handbag had always reminded him of her.  He gave her a small smile his arms dropping to his sides.

She grimaced looking away stubbornly, "Don't look so full of yourself, I'm only here because your bed's more comfortable than mine."  As she moved past him inside, the satin of her dress brushed his skin, and his hand shot out to take her arm.  He pulled her back against him, his hands on her shoulders.

Circling her upper chest, just below her neck with one arm he told her, "I'm glad you're here."  Her hair felt like silk against his stomach and chest, as she leaned back against him.  She closed her eyes, reveling in his warmth.

"Why am I here? I'm mad at you." She wondered in a soft voice, little more than a whisper.  He said nothing, planting a kiss on top of her head.  When he wrapped his other arm around her she dropped the boots and bag.  He winced slightly as one of her boots hit his bare foot.  She laughed her eyes opening.  He smiled at the soothing sound of her wicked mirth.  Without releasing her he walked her into the entryway as she reached behind him, pulling at the doorknob.  The door to 77D fell shut, cutting off the echo of her laughter from the hall.

Merle smiled to herself, handing the phone to the boy at her side, "She must be with Folken, she's not answering my beep."

He gave her a funny look, slipping the phone into his pocket, "Maybe she's sleeping. It is kinda early in the morning."  She shook her head, staring out to the sky where the stars were starting to fade.

"Nope. Lanikai never sleeps at this time. She's with Folken. Trust me, I know." She replied with a dreamy sigh.  The boy shrugged, bringing his foot up on the branch, hugging his leg to his chest with one arm.

"Man, I don't get your friends. It's way too early." He shook his head remorsefully.  She rolled her eyes, giving him a look.  "What?" He frowned.

She smiled and continued to stargaze from her perch on the tree branch.  

It was quiet in this little suburban neighborhood at three o'clock in the morning.  The air was still, chilly, but calm.  An ocean of grass below the tree sparkled with frost, giving the spikes a blue green tint.  Such a perfect morning to watch as your breath froze before your eyes, escaping into the atmosphere as a white vapor.  The stars were dim against the deep marine canvas, twinkling desperately before the sun rose higher to out shine their light.  Little more than a sliver, the moon was slowly disappearing in the west.  Content Merle suspired again dropping her head on Orion's shoulder.  He kissed her temple, putting his arm around her.

          "Will you be at school tomorrow?" She questioned earnestly, her eyes on his face.  His Mediterranean eyes fixed on her and he smiled wistfully.  He considered her for a long time before he spoke.

          "Don't know. Depends on how bad my mother is when I get home." He couldn't meet her eyes, as his darkened unintentionally.  She watched his jaw set firmly as he gazed across the yard, no doubt picturing a horrible scene she could only imagine.  Slowly she nodded in understanding.  It hurt her to see that look in his young eyes.  He was just too young to have to put up with his broken family.  It didn't seem fair to her.  She could feel the pity rising in her, but she quickly pushed it away, knowing it wasn't what he needed or wanted.  Seeing the frown on her face he smiled.  She could feel its warmth even before she raised her face to look at him.

          "I'll try to make it, okay? Just so I can hear your speech." Orion promised, tenderly touching her hair.

          "Okay," She replied gratefully, "Tomorrow."  That said she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.  He met her lips, kissing her back lovingly as he stroked her hair.  Pulling back, they locked eyes, smiling with pleasure.  He caressed the pink locks once more before settling his hands on the tree limb and jumping down.  He landed with a youthful grace that reminded her of Van.  Turning to face her he held his hands up to receive her as she slid from the branch.  He caught her easily under the arms, bringing her to the ground in front of him.

          She grinned up at him; taking the big jacket from her shoulders, "Don't forget this."

          He shook his head, holding up his hands in refusal, "Keep it. I'll see you tomorrow, Kitten."  That said he bent down to kiss her rosy cheek.  She watched him stride away in his baggy jeans, his hands diving into his pockets.  

Hugging the jacket to her chest she closed her eyes whispering her prayer to the stars, "Watch over him. Please."  His Obsession cologne rose around her as she squeezed tighter.  She smiled bringing it away to unfold it and look at the familiar article.  It looked like a preppy letterman jacket, accept that it was black with silver chains across the front.  On the back in jagged red letters it read: "PuNk".  It was Orion's favorite jacket.  Such a sweet boy.  She giggled to herself as she put it on.  She walked toward the house slowly, not minding that her hands were hidden in the sleeves, or that she looked tinier than she really was.  Sliding the patio door open she crept in quietly.

*November 30, 2002

          Merle

Lord Van called yesterday.  His voice is so much deeper now.  Almost like Folken's, but not so serious.  He has one of those voices that girls melt over, he sings pretty well too.  I've heard him sing to Hitomi before.  I'm glad they're together, she makes him happy, I couldn't ask for anymore.  

I have Orion's coat!  It seems warmer than any coat I've ever had.  Probably because he's worn it, and it smells like him.  It means so much to me.  I'm not sure why…  If I were younger I wouldn't have cared about something so small as a coat.  I'd probably laugh at the thought.  It'd seem silly to get so worked up over a jacket.  It's funny to think that at one time I thought boys were just pests.  I never thought that about Van though.  No, Van could do no wrong in my eyes.  I guess I still think of him like that.  But we've both grown up a lot.  He's eighteen, a college man, and a boyfriend to a really lucky girl.  And I'm fifteen, almost sixteen, a sophomore in high school, and a girlfriend to a really foxy guy.  Things have certainly changed.                It's 3:25a.m. And all I can think about is Orion.  He's so wonderful.  He doesn't deserve the kind life he has.  If only his mother would leave that man.  I realize that it's his father, but no one deserves to be treated so cruelly.  Poor Orion.  He sees it every day.  He's the only good thing she has left.  He's the one that picks her up off the floor and dries her tears.  It's like he's the adult and she's the child.  It's him that cleans up all the cuts and bruises.  And sometimes he gets in the way.  He stands up for her, takes the punches and kicks.  Then it's her that actually gets the ice from the freezer.  I guess she's cleaned up her share of cuts and bruises too.  I don't understand why she doesn't walk away from it.  I don't get why she lets it happen.  Orion says she's scared.  He says that she just keeps holding on.  He told me once that things used to good.  Once they were a real family.  No one hit anyone else, and the only words spoken were those of love.  His father used to take his mother dancing every Saturday.  He used to go with her to see her family.  He even used to be a good father to Orion.  Orion told me that he used to do regular things with his dad.  But he can't really remember them.  He said that the only things he has now to remind him of those times are pictures.  His favorite is one of his mom when she was younger.  She was so beautiful.  I'm sure she still is behind all the bruises.  

She's Mexican and African American.  She has light tan skin, green eyes, and black hair.  Orion got his eyes from her.  He doesn't look much like his dad, and his mom says she's thankful for that.  His father is really handsome, but I guess appearances are really misleading.  His father is Caucasian with light brown eyes and blond hair.  Orion's handsome too, but in a different way.  His hair is brown.  And his eyes are gorgeous!  They're this amazing color of blue-green.  I love his eyes.  He's had a hard life.  So have I, when I think about it.  I guess that's what brings people like him and I together.  Even Lanikai and Folken fit together because of the rough lives they've led.  Oh, man, I better quit before I started reciting "Hard Knock Life".  I don't know why I'm writing all of this.  I guess I just want to remember.  But it's late, and I'm tired.  Later.* 

She shut the book and hid it back in her hiding spot.  Before she turned the lamp off she whispered another prayer.  She crossed herself as she'd seen Lani do whenever the woman passed a Catholic church, or a cemetery for that matter (Lani had always been semi-religious).  Picturing Orion's smile she closed her eyes and plopped onto her bed, still wearing his jacket.

Author's Note: Awwww, Meruru has a boyfriend!  It's about time that girl got some love!  She's such a nifty character; I don't think she gets enough credit.  The first time I saw that scene where she's telling Van about Fanelia burning I cried.  It was something about her voice. Seriously, I think she's a cool character, though I have to admit she did step the line sometimes when she made fun of Hitomi.  I mean, dude, the girl has really intense visions, give her a break. 


	6. The Inspiration ChaCha

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

                                                Chi-Town Nights 

                                              **Chapter 6:**

**                                The Inspiration Cha-Cha**

          She had told him to splash it all out on the canvas.  "Paint all the words in your head," Lani had told him.  But the girl was one pineapple short of a Pina Colada, he knew that!  Yet there he stood, a can of red paint in one hand and a brush in the other, staring at another blank canvas.  

Damn white canvases!  Why didn't they come with things already painted on them?  Because they were **_white_** canvases.  _Stop it Van! Focus!_  He shook his head fiercely as though to rid him of the unwanted thoughts.  Concentrating on his brush strokes he slowly began to fill the picture with words.  As he worked he found that images were forming as well, but he did not pause to contemplate them.  

An hour passed, and then another as he started on a second, placing an empty canvas before him to replace the one finished.  The night hours passed into the morning.  He had barely noticed when Hitomi had walked in with a teacup in her hand.  Nor did he realize that he had taken the cup from her in one hand and downed its contents all the while painting away, in yellow this time.  It was a half hour or so after he had finished the cup that he began to feel the affects of the herbal tea and brandy.  

Spraying a sealant on his fourth work he drew the back of his hand across his forehead.  He stepped back, placing the sprayer on the floor.  Removing his mask he eyed the painting wearily.  Then with a yawn he shrugged and mumbled to himself under his breath.  As he stumbled to the door he ran a hand through his hair, scratching his bare stomach at the same time.  The room flooded with dark as he flipped the switch by the doorway.  

He wouldn't remember falling into bed, practically snoring as soon as he hit the pillow.  Nor would he recall his girlfriend pulling the covers over him, and kissing his cheek.  The giggles would fall on deaf ears when she wiped the paint from his forehead with a wet washrag.  He wouldn't even feel it as she moved from the bed beside him to quietly exit.

                                                 ***

At ten thirty the sun was shining brightly, though it did little to dispel the chill of the wintry air.  Little light shown in his art room, however because of its lack of windows.  Adjusting her jacket, Hitomi stepped into the room, flipping the light switch.  She smiled taking in the three portraits leaning against the wall.  Her heels sank into the plastic and carpet as she walked over to the easel.  Stopping in front of it her eyes calmly scanned over the yellow paint filling the canvas with icons and words.  

Cherish. Stifle. Ribbon. Memory. Failing. Temptation. Destiny. Columbia. Far. Unwelcome. Sailing. Aerosmith. Lilies.  All these words scattered across the work, some hanging upside down, or crammed in corners.  Others were tiny, in cursive writing, wavered letters, or bold print.  It was a tangled array of letters and imagery.  A flower bloomed from the word Columbia, as clouds hovered over Sailing.  Unwelcome was engulfed in dust rising from a cracked ground while Memory dripped with fat raindrops.  Wings spread from the S and the E on Stifle.  The word Lilies was shrouded in cacti budding with flowers.  And within the D of Destiny a pink pendant stood, the chain of the necklace surrounding the other letters.  

Hitomi traced the word Destiny lightly with her fingertip, her other hand wrapping around the charm of her necklace.  It was a lapis lazuli teardrop framed in silver.  It had been a gift from Van, he had made it in his Crafts class his senior year of high school.  He had said that it represented the sorrow he had felt in Gaea.  He told her that it was the sadness of losing so many he loved, the destruction of his homeland, and the year rebuilding his kingdom without her.  Like her pendant that he wore, it symbolized the past; their trials together and the people they used to be.  It was an exchange of burdens, regrets, and childhood dreams.

With a sigh, she turned toward the wall to observe the other portraits.  She hadn't squatted long by the pictures when her watch beeped, reminding her of the time.  She groaned looking at the watch as she rose.  Taking one last glance at Van's work she turned and headed for the door.  She cursed under her breath as she gazed again at her watch, briskly walking down the hall.  She'd be late for Calculus.

                                                 ***

Listening to the vocals of Selena y Los Dinos mingled with Lani's own sweet voice he knew she was happy.  He smiled as he recognized the voice of _Estrella's_ morning D.J.  The zesty scent of Chorizo filled his nose as he rolled onto his side to look at the clock.  She was cooking.  She **_was_** in a good mood.  Sighing he laid back inhaling the smells of her perfume permanently entangled in the sheets and the fragrance of the breakfast she was preparing.  It was a good day to have woken up.  

He walked into the kitchen clad in only black sweats, to see her salsa dancing in front of the stove.  He smiled at the recognizable rhythm of her steps.  She swayed to the music even as she pushed the spatula about in the fry pan steaming with the spicy "meat".  Of course it wasn't really meat, if it had been she'd have tossed the food, plus pan into the trash.  It was a soy imitation of the Mexican sausage product.  She wasn't as picky as a vegan, but still she refused meat and most food with animal by-products.  A Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian she called herself.  At that very moment she was pouring a dish of mixed eggs into the fry pan.  When her cell phone rang she didn't even bother turning down the volume on the stereo on the counter near her.  Of course anyone calling her cell phone would expect to be bombarded by the music anyway.  Folken frowned in annoyance as he stalked toward the couch where he picked up her cell.  

"Yes?" He answered

"Lani? No, this isn't Lani! Who is this?" A woman asked.  Her accent was clipped and fast paced.  He frowned.  He answered her cell phone a number of times, and could usual recognize the caller.  This woman was unfamiliar to him.

"Please, hold on one moment." He replied, and then took the phone from his ear walking up the steps into the kitchen.  Handing her the phone he kissed her cheek, and murmured something quietly in her ear.  She smiled, letting the spatula rest on the side of the pan so that she could turn to him.  Wrapping her arms about his neck she kissed him.  His arms circled her waist, lifting her from the floor as he warmed his lips against hers. 

"Hello? Hello?" The woman's muffled voice came from the phone pressed against his shoulder blade.  Lani pulled away from his mouth to laugh, and put the phone to her ear, holding to his neck with one hand.

"Yeah?" She answered with a smile.  He still held her above the tiles of the floor placing light kisses on her neck and collarbone.  He looked up at her face seeing the puzzled frown.

"Ma?" She questioned, the surprise obvious in her voice.  Folken's eyebrows drew together as he slowly placed her on the floor.  In all their time together he had not known Lani's mother to contact her daughter at all.  He stood silent, watching her face for her reaction.

"Ugh- yeah… Where are you, Ma?" She glided out of his arms to turn down the radio.  Talk about strange behavior.  Even if she couldn't hear a word the person on the line said, she never turned the radio down.  "Why?" She gasped suddenly, then calming she said, "What? Oh… Not since my birthday last year… Nah… Uh-huh… But that's not-" She paused biting her lip, picking up the spatula again.  She absently stirred the contents of the pan, continuing to gnaw on her bottom lip.  "Right," She nodded, "If that's okay… Well then where are you staying?"  She moved the pan to an unlit burner, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder.  

Turning off the lit burner and picking up the pan she sighed, "Okay… No, I'm not mad… Well that's your decision, Ma. I'm- no… Alright… **_Yes!_**"  Setting the pan on a trivet on the butcher block she shook her head irritably.

When she had hung up she growled shaking the phone as she looked down at it accusingly.  She rolled her eyes, and took a breath, her face relaxing into a still expression, looking completely unaffected by the previous conversation.  

She met Folken's eyes emotionlessly and shrugged, "She's coming in for a few days. She'll be staying with my Aunt in A-Town."  Opening a drawer she took a fork from it and shut it with her hip.  

As he watched her take a bite he asked, "Does it upset you?"

"No," She chewed on the fork thoughtfully, "I don't care. It's just that you know, I haven't talked to her since like '99, and she just calls. I mean she's on a plane, on her way here. I just- I don't know. It's weird is all. I don't know, it's just crunchy, ya know?"  Forcing a laugh she shrugged again, unable to meet his eyes.  She stared at her hand absently as she tapped the prongs of her fork in the bottom of the saucepan.

"Is she planning on seeing you?" He asked after a moment, stepping close to her.  Lani sighed dropping her fork as she shook her head looking toward the ceiling.

"She said she'd call." She replied pursing her lips.  Placing his hands on her shoulders he gently pulled her towards him.  She immediately wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head against his chest.

"I hope her flight crashes." She mumbled, and then quickly reached toward the butcher block, rapping her knuckles against the wood.  A ghost of a smile flitted to his lips as he sighed silently.  He knew as well as she did that once she met with her mother everything would be okay.  It was just the way things went for her and her mother.  

"You're late for class again, Yaya." He informed her gently.

"Don't care." She answered closing her eyes as she squeezed tighter to him.  They could be frozen that way for several minutes before either moved.  It was just the way things went between them.  Not uncommon, these moments were welcomed escapes from thought.  There need be no words, or even thoughts about one another.  Why ruin a perfect "Kodak Moment" with trivialities?  But sometimes adding to the moment isn't bad.  With little thought, Folken swept her up into his arms, cradling her light frame with ease as he headed toward his room.  

Her eyes still shut against the world, she smiled, "I'm late for class again, baby."

"Don't care." He responded kneeling on the bed as he carefully dropped her among the blankets and pillows.  She laughed her eyes flying open to look into his fire lit eyes.  He looked down at her, his lips forming a taciturn smile.  Chuckling quietly he leaned down toward her ear.

          "Te quiero." He whispered in her ear in a husky voice.  His Spanish accent was perfect, and chilling because of his already charming voice.  Indeed that one phrase murmured in her ear sent a myriad of shivers down her spine, so that she took a soft breath.

          "Yo say." She teased grinning as she laughed.  Cupping his cheek in her hand she said, "I love you."  

He smirked mischievously, "I know."  This sent her reeling with more laughter, even as he lifted her slightly to tug at the strings at the back of her gown.  She fell silent to sigh contentedly, making no move to stop him when he pushed the straps from her shoulders, sucking gently at her neck.  As her hands made slow patterns up and down his back, his fell to her thighs resting on the satin.  When she forced him to look at her he grinned at the look in her eyes and pressed his lips to hers.  Passion awakened in both of their minds they hungrily kissed one another, their eyes closed.  His hands moved the cloth of her gown upward and he could feel it when she giggled against his lips.

*November 30, 2002

  2:42 P.M.

          Folken Lacour De Fanel

Folken Lacour De Fanel                              I guess it'd be a little too cliché if I wrote about the way she looks when she sleeps.  At least Lani seems to think it's cliché, and that's one thing she hates "with a passion", as she puts it.  Being anywhere close to the point of normalcy bothers her.  Which is understandable, after all, the girl is named after a beach in Hawaii.  And as her name is unique so is her incredible character.  There is no doubt in my mind, however, that I happen to be the most out of place element in her life.  I'm probably the most unstable element in her life as well, other than the ever-absent members of her family, of course.  But unlike them I have never walked out a door and never looked back.  True, there've been times when I've walked away from her, but never have I not tried to reconcile with her.  

            We met at her cousin's quincenera in a forest preserve near the town that Merle now lives in.  I was helping Hitomi's class with a science experiment (she'd recommended me for the job).  But when I saw Lani dancing, I stopped what I was doing, which so happened to be taking water samples from the Fox River.  The energy with which she danced warned me that we would be no good together, that I was too stoic to suit her personality.  Yet, I couldn't look away, and when she caught my eye as she sketched an elegant turn, her slitted black dress whirling, I still found myself unable to move.  The moment was for but a second, before she was fully concentrated on her steps again, however just that one look had sparked something more than any words that might pass between us.  I was startled, yet strangely calm despite my inexperience with women.  When the song had ended she walked straight for me, smiling as though she'd known me forever.  She stopped in front of me, leaving only a step between us portraying to anyone who noticed us that we shared some sort of intimacy- a kind of relationship.  I was rather speechless, and could only glance over her head to catch the cold stares of several men at the party.  She laughed softly, knowing immediately why I looked so uncertain.  Her laughter caught me off guard, so that I looked down at her with a kind of questioning look in my eyes.  Lani spoke in a low tone introducing herself and explaining to me that most of the men were family and that the others were friends.  

          Her exact words were: "I'm Lani, and those guys giving you dirty looks are my uncles and cousins. Some are friends, but they can kiss off because they're full of shit."  She smiled and I knew I was enchanted.

          She went on to explain that she needed to get away from them all, and that she wanted me to pretend I was her boyfriend.  So very like herself, she took my arm and pulled me toward the crowd before I could protest.  She whispered to ask me my name and I told her it, adding that I was no actor.  

          She shrugged lightly, tossing me a coy smile, "No, you're my boyfriend, Folken."

          Contrary to my nature I played her game as best I could and when it was done she left with me.  For the rest of the afternoon she walked with me, helping me with experiments and asking questions about me.  The class was bewildered by her sudden appearance and she told them she was a colleague of mine.  I'm sure most of them guessed that wasn't true by the way she was dressed.  She was pleased to be of help to the students, and when no one else was willing to wade into the water to retrieve a girl's purse, it was her who took the plunge in her formal clothes.  I was rather amazed by her, though appalled by her audacity at the same time.  I was even more surprised that she could get a response from me and even make me laugh.  At the end of the evening the students piled into their cars and went home.  I took Lani home.  I remember it so well because she smiled, kissed both my cheeks in the European fashion, and slipped out of the car, leaving her number as well as her scent in the passenger's seat.  It was a week before I forced myself to face my thoughts about her, analyze them, and realize I wanted to call her.

She said to me that women like her mother can't be tied down, and that she fears that that same spirit may make her into an identical woman.  Though I see that will in Lani, I know that she is not her mother; she is far too compassionate.  But that restless nature is strong in her, and sometimes I wonder if I'm a bit too demanding.  She's very capable of fending for herself, after all when one has survived poverty in this city one tends to learn rather quickly how to endure alone.  But she hasn't always been in a safe state of mind.  After being placed in a foster home when she was sixteen, she ran away and when she was found was institutionalized.  Her story of the place appalled me.  I've come to see that at times her mind is still a very fragile prison for her.  Sometimes I fear for her when she's lost to the depression that can sweep her up at any moment, placing her in a chokehold she can barely escape.  I've never met any quite as delicate or strong. I know her story, the one about how she came to be the person she is, and how she'd lived on the streets.  But that story isn't meant to be typed out on a computer, nor would it be proper to set it to paper, because truly, her life means much more within my heart.  The emotion behind it is greater than anything I can type out onto this screen.  I think I meant to remind myself of what its like for her to dredge up memories of her family.  It was a rather futile effort.  Maybe looking at her life, I feel a bit better about mine.  But then, neither of our stories is entirely tragic.  Tragedy is much more simplistic.* Author's Note: Is it just me or does the title for this chapter sound like an ep. of Cowboy Bebop?  Please review!        


	7. Call It a Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.

Author's Note:

Thank you Dawnsama for the lovely review! I'm kinda disappointed about the reviews too! But you gotta roll with the punches, am I right?  Anyway, I shall continue on despite the lack of interest because I do so love this style of writing. Thanks again for your kind comments! You're too sweet!

T- Thank you for reviewing also! And yes, Van left Fanelia for earth. I plan to explain that after awhile.

Smiles:)- You're too kind! Thank you! I do try to make memorable characters that can interact w/ those we know from Escaflowne. I hope that I've written the Escaflowne cast in character! Of course, now that they're on earth they've had to adapt. But I try to stick to their original personalities somewhat, while making them develop in a way as well.

CinderellaxVan- Thank you very much for the glowing review! I was so happy to receive it! I hope you found that you liked my other stories as well. I hope you'll let me know! 

Rai Dorian- Thank you for reviewing this, along w/ the other stories I've written! Your support means a lot! 

To The Lady In Black07- Thanks for taking time to review! You and I seem to do well with angsty characters, huh? I hope that the moody poetry and journal entries make sense to you.

And last, but certainly not least I'd like to thank Sadie Joyce, also known as Myst Lady. You've been with me for so many of my stories, and I can't thank you enough! I hope you're still reading my fictions and enjoying them! You're truly a devoted supporter! Thanks so much!

          Again, thank you to all my reviewers and I hope you enjoy the rest of _Chi-Town Nights_!

                                                _Chi-Town Nights_****

**                                             Chapter 7:**

**                                         Call It a Reunion**

          His nerves were definitely strung tight; she could tell by the way he incessantly picked at the invisible lint on his gray shirt.  Truth be told that he had plucked off all the infuriating fuzz an hour ago when he had stood before the bathroom mirror.  Yet still he seemed determined to rid the long sleeved cotton shirt, temptingly revealing the outline of his muscles, of even the most minute and therefore unseen particles of unknown matter.  

She smiled thoughtfully, thinking on two hours before when he had run around shirtless muttering about ties, silk shirts, and tuxes.  For a half hour he had torn his room apart searching for an illusive red shirt, cursing first in Fanelian, and then the more colorful English, which provided a wider variety of indecent words.  When she had come up from the laundry room with the clothing in question he had snapped at her, plucking the shirt from her hands.  Of course she had disregarded his sullen disposition, forgiving him immediately.  The man was a bundle of twitchy nerves after all.  In the end he had apologized generously and settled on the gray shirt and black slacks, the very same that he now shifted in anxiously by her side.                      She pursed her lips shaking her head lightly as she watched him go from pulling at the front of his shirt to yanking at a thread at the top of his pants.  Gently she stilled his hand, taking it into hers with a reassuring smile.  He sighed, one corner of his mouth quirking upward in a crooked smile.  Bringing her hand to his lips he kissed it, letting it linger against his mouth for several moments, calmed by the feel and scent of her flesh.  The light blush in her cheeks brought him back.  She was still so much of the girl he had met while slaying a dragon.  He smiled gratefully, letting their entwined hands fall to their sides.

          Squeezing his hand she urged quietly, "Come on, let's take one last look. I know you'll feel better once you've made sure you like where your pieces have been placed."  Hitomi never ceased to amaze him with her keen knowledge of his mind.  The surprise shown on his face for a mere second before he nodded pensively.

                                                          ***

"Speed up Dryden!" Merle insisted for about the hundredth time that night.  She was leaning between the two front seats, glossing her lips in the rearview mirror.

          "Relax, Kitten, we'll make it." Dryden replied in his lazy drawl.  Slumping further into the driver's seat he sighed contentedly, reaching for the volume dial.  Before he could turn up the Chili Peppers, Millerna smacked his hand away as she turned in the passenger seat to look over her shoulder.

          "Orion, you're sure it's alright if you're out late? We might not get back for awhile," She said in an almost motherly tone as she tried to see him in the dark interior of the Escalade (AN: Dryden's ballin' lol).

          He smiled with a nod, "Yeah, my mom went to my grandma's, so I have the house to myself, because her husband's working. Oh- but- don't worry- she doesn't mind if I'm out late- I don't have a curfew or anything."

          "Oh, alright." She replied with a smile and turned back.  

As Merle plopped down next to Orion she sighed turning to look at him eagerly, "Do I look alright?"

"Beautiful- but- um your eyeliner is a little smudged at the right-," He answered, outstretching his hand to wipe away the brown mark.  Before he could touch her face she shot up again with a gasp.

"Oh no!" She cried, worriedly peering into the mirror again.  She grunted in frustration as she spotted the error and licked her fingertip.  Rubbing at the corner of her eye she ripped a Kleenex from the holder with her other hand.  After muttering and murmuring to herself lamentably, she whined, "Millerna, help!"

"You'll have to wait until we stop, Merle, I can't reach you." Millerna responded with a sympathetic smile.  She frowned suddenly glancing at the highway, "Dryden, slow down."  He started at the sharp command, but eased off a bit on the gas.

"But he can't see me like this! Look at me! I'm wretched!" Merle pouted, dropping to the seat.  Dryden smirked, catching Orion's gaze in the rearview, and rolling his eyes.  Orion nodded in agreement with a wry smile twisting the silver barbell pierced through his eyebrow.

"But Merle, you look fine, there's nothing wrong with your make-up- I mean it's not what I would wear- but-" Millerna tried.

"It's too much, isn't it?" Merle gasped, cutting the woman off, "Damn it! I knew I shouldn't have used this stupid purple shimmer…" She continued to bemoan her appearance, insisting she had smeared everything and looked like trash.  Dryden turned up the music. Orion sighed.  And Millerna turned the music down.

"Dryden, pull off at the next exit." Millerna said with an assured nod.  Dryden sighed and turned up the music.  Orion patted Merle's shoulder comfortingly, looking completely helpless as he bit his lip.  And Millerna again turned down the music.  A pattern friendly bunch for sure.

"Hurry up, Dryden, why are you going so slow?" Merle snapped as she contented herself to picking up the makeup scattered on the floor.  The driver stifled another sigh, as he wondered if anyone had smuggled a bottle of aspirin along for the long drive.

                                                 ***

Folken hated being late.  It could only be Lani that was holding him up, Van reasoned.  He smiled at the knowledge shaking his head.

"What?" Hitomi questioned with a smile.

"My brother's late," Van replied, leaning to his right to speak lowly into her ear.

Hitomi laughed softly with a knowing smile, "So he is. I'm glad they made up."

Van shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. He'll be late for everything for the next couple weeks."

Hitomi sighed nodding reluctantly.  She knew that Van was right.  It'd at least be a few weeks before Lani and Folken had another disagreement.  Despite Lani's bitter hatred of unoriginality, her and Folken's relationship was like clockwork, a network of outrageous fights and predictable, yet odd endings.  The girl wondered what brought them back together time and time again.  But then musing about their relationship always produced a similar conclusion.  Hitomi had no idea what made them click.

As she put aside that useless train of thought she spotted a familiar face.  She gasped, "Merle!"  From across the room the girl heard her name, instantly picking Hitomi out in the crowd.  Merle's eyes lit like fireflies in the night.  Hitomi's grip on Van's arm tightened with excitement as she broke into a wide smile.  Van's arm tensed beneath her hand as he too stared anxiously at the advancing clique.

She looked radiant, the pink-haired teen who pushed her way through the mass of students, their parents, and teachers, her anxiety radiating from her small figure.  Her wavy hair had grown just past her shoulders, and there were several new piercings dazzling brilliantly on her body, her newest being the diamond that adorned the right side of her nose.  The white jeans scribbled with phrases were skin tight, like the white baby t that left her bell button exposed.  Even the oversized Punk jacket with all the chains seemed to mesh well.  She had developed nicely, though she was still short and petite.  But it suited her.  Her new image and attire could not hide the little catgirl that Van had grown up with.  

Van finally took notice of her other accessory, the one calmly walking at her side, his hand in hers.  This was certainly a new development.  The last time Van had known, Orion had merely been a friend.  Not that he disapproved.  In fact he quite liked Orion, and had caught himself wondering at how well he would treat his best friend.  Orion complemented her quite nicely to be honest.  It must have been Orion, Van thought, that had brought about the change in her.  Before he knew it, they were standing in front of him, Hitomi receiving a hug from both.

"You look great," Hitomi smiled, a tear rolling down her cheek as she stood back to look at Merle.

"Thanks," Merle beamed, wiping at the tears that had squeezed from her eyes.  It was a touching scene, two of his favorite people coming together so happily that it almost overwhelmed Van.  They were both beautiful beyond words and he felt extremely blessed by their presence.  He swallowed the rising emotion as Merle looked up at him with her wide blue-gray eyes.  Was this one of those made-for-T.V. movie moments?  A moment in time where the connection between two characters is so strongly felt it's almost sickeningly sappy?

"You're nose…" He gave her a half smile, "It looks good on you."

Her eyes closed as she broke into a wider smile, the tears continuing on down her face, "Yeah."  She opened her eyes to nod at him.  He knew that the moment had been crushed and somehow become just plain awkward.  She'd grown up so much he wasn't sure how to greet her anymore.  He was used to her launching herself into his arms with no restraint, crying his name as though he were her long lost lover.  He expected tears, at least that was familiar.  And yes, the connection was still strong between them, but they had grown up.  This time she was restraining herself.  He was certain that there would be no more glomps, at least not with her, not with his little catgirl.  

_Merle. You've grown up… I knew it would happen someday. _He wanted to sigh, but he held it in.  Instead he smiled at Orion, offering his hand, "How's the band?"

Shaking the offered hand Orion smiled wryly with a half shrug, "Pretty well split."

"A little too cliché if you ask me," Dryden said from behind Orion.  

"Yeah, I guess so," Van replied.  He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hitomi hugged Millerna.

"Well at least he found something productive to do with his time for awhile." Millerna shot Dryden a meaningful glance as she smiled at Orion.

Hitomi blinked, questioning innocently, "And running an international Internet provider isn't productive?"

"I suppose, unless you consider the time it takes away from other more important things," Millerna responded in a bored tone as she rolled her eyes.  Hitomi smiled nervously, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"Being your own boss isn't so bad! You can take all the vacations you want," Dryden drawled, ignoring the bait dangling before his eyes.  He slipped an arm around Millerna's shoulders with a smile.

Van nodded, "So it's going well."

"Quite," Dryden replied brightly, giving Millerna's shoulders a squeeze.  He gazed around the room slowly, "But you're not doing so bad for yourself either, huh?"  Clusters of nicely dressed people mingled with those who didn't give a damn about their appearance, standing before the paintings and sculptures about the room.  The Gaea Exhibit seemed successful enough to Dryden.  And as Millerna sighed, leaning into him slightly as she put her arm around his waist, he felt rather successful too.

Author's Note: So, we have Dryden and Millerna. I always thought that they'd make a cute couple. Dryden would keep Millerna on her toes because he's so unlike Allen, ya know? What do you guys think?

Also, please let me know what you think about Orion's character being w/ Merle. 


End file.
